


blessed are those with a voice

by illinois_e



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: (the only real tag here tbh), I mean it, Jongin is a nerd, M/M, Swearing, The things I do for love, and very silly, everyone in exo is a nerd save yixing, not school nerd k he is an ANIME nerd, sehun as the nerd prince charming, this is very cute very fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 04:51:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9863681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illinois_e/pseuds/illinois_e
Summary: Jongin is just your pretty average weeaboo guy: there’s a pile of manga carelessly thrown in the corner of his room, a big ass Yuri!!! On Ice poster above his bed and he has the worst friends a guy could ask for. Also, he is in love.(featuring: oh sehun, vivaldi's spring and chocolate ice cream)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thornbish (ephemerida)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemerida/gifts).



> important notes: i'm sorry and i don't think there's an event called animecon in seoul but can you pretend there is? thanks. the title is from ghost in the shell 2: innocence
> 
> non-important: i should have finished this last month but alas i write like a tortoise. anyways this is for phew, my dear mom whom i love and whose birthday was in january... forgive me mother for i have sinned

Whether Jongin likes them or not, these are the facts: there’s so many mangas and action figures and anime related things one can have, and he learned that the hard way. Or the way he could barely move around without bumping on some Love Live nendoroid — mostly Honoka, because she’s on the edge of the shelf, always close to falling off. But that’s fine, really, he says to himself. It’s not like he moves around a lot, anyway. Most of the time he’s sitting on his old leather chair, watching one of the newest anime or playing the good ol’ Skyrim with his headphones on, so it’s not as he can really complain about the lack of space. After all, the room is like this because he wants it to be.

And he can dance on the garage, so really. It’s fine. Kinda hard to clean, but he’s the one in charge of keeping his room cockroach-free, and again: it’s just how he wants it to be.

He even did cosplay, once, because Kyungsoo needed someone to be the Naruto to his Sasuke, and Jongin had blond hair at the time, so he was the perfect choice. Or the only one, most likely, since the two of them tend to keep their hobby a secret. If only they just watched the ones like Dragon Ball (which Jongin has all of the published volumes, thank you) or Cowboy Bebop, but no, the big ass Free! poster beside his bed, now rivaled by his newest and biggest and brightest Yuri!!! On Ice poster, didn’t let him lie about where his tastes really lay. Or in whom.

It wasn’t like he needed anyone besides Kyungsoo, not when he also had the best friends internet could provide. Baekhyun, who likes to post pictures of himself in neko costumes; Chanyeol, who’s always playing some classic anime OST on his grandfather’s piano; and Jongdae, who whines real loud most of time but also can draw any character as long as it doesn’t have tentacles.

(because they all agree tentacles are gross)

They all met in person last year, also known as The Best Day of Kim Jongin’s Boring Life, at Seoul’s AnimeCon. Jongin and Kyungsoo had to take the night bus and sleep all over each other but hey, it was worth it. The drawing Jongdae gave him when it was time to come home hangs above his notebook, framed like an old photograph, and the pictures they took are all over his wall, sticked with tape and, as Jongin himself likes to say, lots of love.

Or as his sisters like to say, lots of _weeabooness_.

On top of that, there are the ones who aren’t real friends, but Jongin likes to think they could be, if at least he overcame his soul shattering fear of talking to nice and beautiful people, even on the internet. The most he can do is leaving over excited comments on Yixing’s dance videos, ‘cause _damn_ , that boy dances like God himself ordered him to do it. Yixing even answered him with a _thanks mate!_ once, and that was The Third Best Day of Kim Jongin’s Boring Life, for sure.

The second best day, which no one knows it’s the second one because he’s too ashamed to tell even Kyungsoo, was when his most favorite cosplayer ever and ever and ever  in the world followed him back. Just remembering the moment when that tiny pop up appeared on the bottom of his screen is enough to throw him in a fit of lovesick sighs, mostly because he damn well wasn’t expecting a followback, not when his blog is just long rants about psychological aspects of anime characters - sports anime, almost always -, fanarts he reblogs and the occasional selfie in front of the mirror. He has his fair share followers, but he guessed not everyone wanted to hear about how Yuri!!! On Ice doesn’t have any antagonist because Yuuri’s greatest enemy is himself.

But you guess what: _Sehun_ does.

Sehun with his cute pink lips, his boop-able nose and shoulders so wide Jongin could easily place two nendoroids on each. Sehun and his community wide known epic cosplay of Mass Effect’s Captain Shepard, complete with a (fake) assault rifle, dozens of scratches on the armor and even a fucking pop out _omni-blade_ made with transparent resin tinted orange; the whole costume probably costing him more than all of the money Jongin has been saving since his twelves, but hey, there isn’t a single cosplay gallery on the internet that doesn’t display his picture, so it seems to be worth it.

Sehun with his adorable eye smile and his selfies with his dog. He is all Jongin thinks about at night, when he should be sleeping but he didn’t do anything all day besides watching anime so he’s not even slightly tired. He thinks about how he saw him in the same AnimeCon he met his friends, but Sehun was so beautiful and he was so scared he couldn’t even think about saying _hello_ to him without wanting the ground to swallow him whole. It was right before the cosplay contest began, and he couldn’t help but snap a picture of Sehun in his Kageyama Tobio costume. It’s not his wallpaper (it was, for some time), but Jongin still looks at it almost everyday.

His friends tease him, saying he’s hopelessly in love with Sehun but mind you, he’s definitely _not_. Maybe he has a crush on the blond boy, ok, fine, he can live with a crush. But love? Sehun is a rich and beautiful boy from Seoul, while Jongin has big - not plush, not at all - lips, a bump on his nose, his skin is too dark and, above all, he lives at like some four hours of distance from Seoul. Even _if_ he was in love, there’s no way they could even date with all that space separating them—and let’s be honest, there’s no way God’s dearest and most beautiful and flawless angel Sehun would even look at him.

But it’s fine, right? It’s going to pass, sooner and later, and then he won’t daydream about Sehun’s lips pressing on the skin of his neck. It’s going to pass, as all things do, even if he kinda doesn’t want it too.

If Ino could get over her undying love for Sasuke, then so can he.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

All things considered (like having his two older sisters using him as their living makeup tester), Jongin has a pretty normal life. A pretty nice life, he might add. There’s food at the table when he goes downstairs for breakfast, and Kyungsoo is already waiting for him at the door when he gets ready for school. He isn’t very smart but he also isn’t dumb, which means he’s happy when he manages to score a B, the teachers leave him alone and so do the bullies. At Tuesdays and Thursdays he has dance practice after school, in the small studio close to home. One hour taking classes and one hour _giving_ them — for children, of course, but the money he makes is more than enough to feed his sorry ass with his nerd things. And then, finally, he’s free to do what he wants.

Nothing.

Granted, it isn’t _nothing_ , even if his mom says so, and his father, and his sisters. It’s relaxing time, which consists mostly of watching anime while laying on his bed. Sometimes Kyungsoo comes with him, and they end up not watching anything, too busy fighting for space. This time is one of these.

“I’m the fucking guest here. Move over, giant.” Kyungsoo says, Jongin’s arm all over his face. “No one told you to grow over 6 feet, it’s your fault only. Learn to live with it.”

“What the fuck? I’m like 5’10” at most, stop being salty just ‘cause you’re the smallest in class. Or should I say the _tiniest_?” He laughs, closing his eyes and not seeing the fateful moment when Kyungsoo throws the pillow on his face. “You cannot fight the truth with pillows, Do Kyungsoo.”

“The only thing I’m going to fight is your sorry ass. Move,” he says again, and this time Jongin complies. Their legs are still tangled under the sheets, but that is nothing new. “What are we watching today?”

Jongin is already with the notebook on his lap, Crunchyroll open in one tab while he scrolls through his dashboard on the other. “Aren’t you the guest? You can choose.”

“You know being the guest also means I get the biggest serving of your mom’s lasagna, right?” He smiles while Jongin mutters _fuck off_ , still engrossed on whatever Tumblr is offering him. “We could watch JoJo, I guess. Or Flip Flappers. But it’s JoJo’s finale, isn’t it? So. JoJo it is.” He waits and waits, but Jongin isn’t moving a muscle. It’s like Kyungsoo didn’t just speak to him. It’s like he isn’t there at all. “Jongin? Earth to Jongin. I can’t believe you died while using Tumblr, you’re such a loser I can’t even—”

“Shut up,” Jongin replies, eyes glued to the screen like he really is going to die if he closes them.

“Kim Jongin, did you just told me to shut up? What kind of friend—”

“Shut. Up.” He says again, tone dead serious, and Kyungsoo pouts but shuts up. He’s a bit hurt, alright. Jongin never _ever_ talks like that with him - with anyone -, so the thing he’s seeing probably is serious. Kyungsoo can’t help but take a little peek at it.

And then everything clicks. He even lets out a small _oh_ , but Jongin’s brain doesn’t compute it. All his attention is focused on his screen, where Sehun is sliding over ice, spinning and spinning and _spinning_ and overall doing _that_ thing.

That thing when a person is being so beautiful—scratch that, it’s more than being beautiful. He looks fucking _ethereal._ And Jongin, God, Jongin’s chin is like, on his lap, and he won’t pick it up, he doesn’t care about picking it up. Kyungsoo could throw all the pillows on the world at his face and he wouldn’t even breathe about it. His mother could call them for dinner saying she made fried chicken and he wouldn’t hear it. His brain is in short circuit at the moment, hands slackly gripping the sheets and he’s going to start drooling at any moment. Just another second and he’ll be making his home with God’s angels.

The video stops just before that—actually, it is long over now. He spends ten seconds looking at his dark screen before he hears Kyungsoo calling his name, and he doesn’t answer; instead, his finger press the play button again, and the world quiets around him.

Maybe sliding isn’t the right word, because Jongin surely thinks Sehun is fluttering above the ice, his arms moving like a saint—or a sinner, if the way he makes Jongin hot all over is any indicative. He recognizes that dance from somewhere, he is sure, but his brain can’t do the connection, not right now, not while Sehun is _smiling_ at the damn camera, like he knows God put him in the world to break poor boys’ hearts. He spins and jumps and spins one more time before finishing it. Then he goes to the middle of the ice - _is that a lake, like, a real one?_ he hears Kyungsoo say -, bows ( _It’s me who should be bowing to him oh my God)_ and the video ends again.

“Jesus Christ,” Kyungsoo says, taking him out of dreamland. “You're so whipped for him.”

“Jesus Christ,” he repeats without even thinking. “I’m so whipped for him.”

“Wasn't that the Eros routine, though? And does he have a fucking lake in his backyard? This guy is rich. Like, really rich.”

“I’m the most whipped man on the Earth, ain’t I?” He sighs, and if Jongin was an anime character his eyes would have already been replaced by two beating hearts. “I didn't knew he could ice skate. That was so beautiful. Did you see it? And the way he moved, just— God. I’m so whipped I don’t even care anymore. It was the best thing I have ever seen in my entire life.” He says, looking at the white ceiling of his room. White. Like ice. Sehun ice skating. Jesus.

Kyungsoo can’t hold on his laughter any longer.

“What?”

“Jonginnie is _in love_!”

“I am,” Jongin agrees, falling with his back on the bed, notebook forgotten somewhere by his feet. Kyungsoo is quick to mimic his position. “I am in love.”

“Yes, you moron. You are.”

“Damn right I am!”

“Does this mean we aren’t going to watch something?” He asks, and Jongin has to wish his heart to come back to normal. He's not in love, he's not in love, he's not in love. It's just a silly crush.

(he is _in love_!)

“We are going to watch JoJo or my name isn’t Kim Jongin.”

“Your name is Mr. In Love,” Kyungsoo says. He laughs and Jongin says _you wish_ and laughs, too, and then the anime begins; the notebook in the space between their legs, their shoulders touching each other, just like every other day.

But unlikely every other night, sleep flees from Jongin’s grasp, and he stays up till close to the sunrise thinking about ice-skating and wide-shouldered boys.

He is in love.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Almost a week later, Jongin comes home after an afternoon of hearing ten over-excited children screaming in commemoration of the winter break. Since the most they do in school is hand-print whole walls with paint, they’re brimming with energy, waiting to spend the whole season building snowmen and snowfighting with their friends until the tips of their noses turn red.

But Jongin, who spent the last week sleeping five hours per day, studying his ass off to compensate for a year of being a little less than average, is dead tired. He wants to say that he could easily sleep for two days straight, but is not like he can’t do that in any circumstance, so right now he could easily sleep for a _week_ straight, just waking up to eat chicken every ten hours or so.

He moans when the hot water of the shower splashes against the sore muscles of his back, and for a second he considers sleeping right there, before remembering that his parents aren’t home yet and he can go to their room, turn on their air heating and wake up hours later not freezing his ass off. Seems like a dream come true, and he doesn’t lose time before dressing with his fluffiest pyjamas after his bath and hopping to the bedroom with his cellphone in his hand to send Kyungsoo a message—he doesn’t want his friend to get worried when he doesn’t show up for a least a week.

As said before, Jongin is not what someone would call a popular guy, be it on his school or the internet. Not that _people like him_ can’t be socially successful, but Jongin himself was fine being, as he liked to say, a pretty everyday guy. So why in hell is his cellphone almost crashing with the absurd number of notifications that just can’t seem to stop coming?

He tries remembering everything he posted the day before, since he doesn't even turns the wi-fi on while he's on school. The only things he remembers are:

  1. reblogging Jongdae’s new D.Gray-man fanart and adding a very _u are so talented and i love u so much but wouldn’t date u cause u r anti-hygienic_ kind of caption, which definitely should not get any note, unless people don’t really have what to do on this goddamn website anymore.
  2. posting (or being guilt tripped into posting, to be honest) a video of himself dancing to SEVENTEEN’s Pretty Nice, which should also only be reblogged by his friends—the ones that _forced_ him to post it. _It will be nice_ , they said. _You’re a good dancer, why not show that for everyone?_ Jongin wanted to show his fist to their face sometimes, but that wasn't an option at 300 miles away from his target.



Quickly, he unlocks his phone and checks his app while the notifications continue to come. Maybe is that old rant on Puella Magi Madoka Magica’s ending, or The Best Rant He Ever Did, but Madoka is pretty old, so he doubts that people are out there reblogging rants about it.

“Oh, shit,” is what he says when the notes finally die down enough for him to scroll through them. Is much more than he ever got with any other post, and maybe more than all his posts combined. Someone must have linked it somewhere but he cannot fathom someone he knows and who haves this kind of social power.

(unless…)

No, it can’t be. He has to be crazy. This is just his fifteen minutes popularity going to his head. Because it _can’t_ be, period. Jongin scrolls faster, not bothering anymore with reading the kind (he could kiss some of this people) captions he received from at least one in ten reblogs. Which, again, is more than he ever received in his not long but not short either Tumblr life.

Jongin doesn’t have to wait that much longer to find it. _It_ , the reason for the butterflies flying wildly in his stomach, half cliché half fucking in love so who cares about clichés anyway. _It_ , and he doesn’t know how to react, how to _overreact_ , truly; because this deserves to be overreacted to hell and back.

There is the little reblog icon, the first of that day, seemingly innocent in all his tiny-ness. And then, at its right, there is an icon Jongin knows too well—one he almost memorized by now, piece by piece until he could easily form the whole (glorious) picture in his head.

It’s Sehun - Sehun! -, with the redhead wig and green lenses he used for his male Ariel cosplay— one of his firsts, as Jongin found out that fateful day when he read Sehun’s whole blog. And that isn’t even the end of it, even if it’s the end of Jongin’s heart as a fully functional organ, since it’ll never beat the same way again. The cherry on top of this brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping day is that, above the video, there is a—is this even real? Above the video there is a fucking caption. It’s just one line, but damn if it isn’t the most beautiful thing Jongin has ever and will ever read.

_“jongins moves r so beautiful, wish i could dance like him :o u all should check him out !”_

And Jongin, well. He reads it four times before he decides he just wants the ground to swallow him before he fucking explodes on something akin to _love_ or his _undying and unmatched passion for oh sehun._ Is this normal? He doesn't know the etiquette of _reacting to being acknowledged by the possible love of his life_ —hell, his only real and 3D crush was Chanyeol, when he still didn’t know the guy uses the same pair of socks three days straight. It’s a bit of an understatement to say that Jongin doesn't really know what he’s going to do from now on. Should he send Sehun a private message? Should he give the post a like? Or should he just ignore it?

In fact, he thinks, trying to ground himself before he ends soaring on the sky, Sehun's caption, as cute as it was, didn't really mean anything more than admiration. He didn't compliment Jongin but his dance, or as he said, his moves. The same way Jongin babbles about Yixing’s new choreographies to his friends, and it doesn't mean he wants to kiss the chinese boy.

(not that he would refuse a kiss from him either, but that is another story)

He could be overreacting—he _knows_ he is overreacting, for God’s sake. Maybe he should call Kyungsoo and ask his friend for help, but he isn’t that sure about bringing Sehun's name in front of his best friend ever again after the Ice Skating Incident. Jongdae is just going to laugh at his awkwardness, Chanyeol is as helpless as he is in this subject, and Baekhyun, being friends with Sehun since middle school, is the biggest no-go ever.

In the end, is his oldest sister who helps him - help as in forcing him to take an attitude - when she enters the room to tell him dinner’s ready and find his brother curled in fetal position, looking at this phone like it is the greatest and worstest thing in the world. At the same time.

“Just send him the goddamn message, you loser,” she says, after Jongin gives her a briefing of the whole situation.

“I’m pretty sure he will really think I’m a loser if I send him a message because of one tiny itty compliment.”

“So,” she says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world and her brother is much more of an idiot than she thought If he can’t perceive this. “If he likes you, or has a chance to like you or whatever, he will have to like you from who you are. Which means a loser. So it’s best you let him know already.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks,” he sighs, looking at the notifications of even more notes on his post. “I guess? You did call me a loser so I’m not really sure I should be thanking you.”

“You’re welcome, _idiot_ ,” she walks away, probably to tell their mother how much of a baby he still was. “And don’t be late for dinner, there’s fried chicken.”

“Won’t be!” He yells back, hoping she can hear he downstairs or else she’ll tell their mother he isn't hungry and they’ll eat all the chicken without him—it happened more than once.

He lets his fingers skitter through the screen, breathing in and out until he feels sure that he’s really going to do this, he’s going to send Sehun a private message, he’s going to _talk_ with his crush, the destined love of his life—if Sehun answers him, of course. What if he thinks Jongin is a stalker who can’t even wait before trying to get into his pants?

(doesn’t matter that jongin does not want to get into his pants—in his mouth, maybe, or in the dip of his collarbones, but not his pants; or at least not right now)

After typing and deleting countless messages in the span of ten minutes, he can smell fried chicken in the air and knows he has to be quick - trust fried chicken to make even Oh Sehun seem _not that important_ \- or else he’ll spend the rest of the week moping in his room.

If Chanyeol was there he would be cheering and singing love songs until Jongin truly believed that there was no way Sehun wouldn’t want to date him by the end of the week, but alas, Chanyeol isn’t there. And this is something Jongin has to do alone, just him and his thoughts and his heart and the simple words he sends, fingers quivering above the button. Just him and the screen and Sehun on the other side of the country, reading the same words.

 

 **kimkai:** hey! um i know this is kinda sudden but

 **kimkai:** i just wanted to thank u fr the compliment…… cuz i rlly like u and ur works etc so it felt real nice

 **kimkai:** also i saw that video of yours ice skating and that was fcking lit so dont u dare saying u wish to dance like me when u r way better. on thin ice, i might add

 

Sehun doesn’t see the messages right away, and Jongin is left with a wish to say something more, to ask him about his favorite game (Mass Effect), his favorite tv series (Black Sails), or even the most trivial things like his favorite season (autumn, because it’s not too cold and not too warm either, and he can see the fallen leaves from his bedroom’s window). He wants to ask about anything, just so that he can continue talking with Sehun—even if by all means, it’s not talking when he’s the only one saying anything.

He hops off the bed and runs to the kitchen before doing something he might regret later, leaving his phone on his parent’s bed so that he doesn’t spend the whole dinner checking for an answer. His sister’s eyes follow him the entire time, a knowing smile gracing her full lips while Jongin doesn’t have the courage to tell her what he did, not before knowing if it was the right thing.

After dinner, Monggu and Jjangah start rubbing themselves against his legs until he gives up and pets them, peppering both their snouts with kisses while his sister starts _A Series of Unfortunate Events_ on Netflix and he feels obliged to watch with her. It’s not long before Jjanggu joins them, and Jongin happily buries himself in the puppy pile, feeling his eyes dropping with every minute that passes.

It’s only when his mother goes to sleep that she finds his phone buried under her pillow, still beeping with a new notification now and then. He wishes his fingers would just stay still enough for him to unlock the phone and kill his anxiety in that moment, but they’re trembling, as it is his heart.

( _you have five unread messages_ )

 

 **oohsehun:** shkahskaisjai hey !!!

 **oohsehun:** oooh u dont have to thank me ! i was jsut telling the truth ur amazing and everyone should know

 **oohsehun:** was this 2 forward ? sorry

 **oohsehun:** but i rlly like ur blog too ! i mean the way u talk abt things is just……….. u seem so smart ??? im a bit dumb sajisiakkjsiaj so u rlly help me a lot u know ! w ur theories and rants and all

 **oohsehun:** 1 day im going to post a video of mself dancing and then u can see im not that good rlly ! ice skating aside

 

(just breathe, you moron!)

First things first: after almost three minutes of silent screeching, Jongin screenshots the chat log so he can cherish it for eternity.

Second, he tries putting some order on his thoughts to come with nice and clean responses to Sehun, even if he just wants to compliment the boy until he dies buried under love.

 

 **kimkai:** aaaaaaa i cant believe u srsly my blog is just senseless brainstorming while u sir!

 **kimkai:** u put so much effort into ur costumes and i rlly never seen anything more beautiful than that 1 u did of celty!!! i mean w the leather and all it was so

 **kimkai:** ……… sexy?????????? UM pls dont take this slrsly i just get overwhelmed everytime i rememebr

 **oohsehun:** sjksjkajdkajdjia its ok !!!! it was supposed 2 b sexy even tho i dont think i can pull this concept pretty well im 2 lanky

 **kimkai:**  what ??@?!/1/ u should meet my friend chanyeol hes like the definition of lanky

 **kimkai:** ure very very beautiful k

 **kimkai:** like ioi very very very???

 **kimkai:** sorry

 **oohsehun:** skjkiaskisjaj youre so cute

 **oohsehun:** and anyways im not beautiful as u so whats the point ???

 **oohsehun:** DON T ANSWER THAT just tell me if ure going to b in the next animecon so we can [suspense music playing] meet

 **kimkai:** IM TO EMBARRASSED TO ANSWER TBH

 **kimkai:** (〃▽〃)

 **kimkai:** yeah sure! actually i dont know yet i have to talk w my parenst

 **oohsehun:** youre a mamas boy

 **kimkai:** im a poors boy k

 **kimkai:** but ill tell u if i cant go

 **oohsehun:** ooooooo

 **oohsehun:** its a date then!

 **oohsehun:** kinda

 **oohsehun:** u know what i already embarrassed myself enough for a month sleep calls me

 **kimkai:** its a date

 **oohsehun:** saiaskskajsaji nice !!!

 **oohsehun:** good nite mr dance machine

 **kimkai:** good nite mr sexy in a leather suit

 **oohsehun:** AM NOT

 **kimkai:** sweet dreams

 **oohsehun:** u too

 **oohsehun:** (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘)

 

That night, Jongin dreams about ice and light-haired boys (again).

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The dogs are barking in the backyard of the house, he can feel the smell of fried eggs on the air and, for the first time since winter begun, he doesn’t wake up feeling like he was left alone in an iceberg. It’s just a month after the newest Second Best Day of Kim Jongin’s Boring Life (because talking with someone is way better than just being followed by them) and his plan is almost done.

He’s been keeping in touch with Sehun, who is still, by all means, an angel God sent for the whole world to admire, but now an angel at Jongin’s reach; or at least until they both meet and Sehun realizes Real Life Jongin is a hundred percent more lame than Internet Jongin. At least he will have those moments to cherish for eternity.

They most stick with small talk, both of them still quite embarrassed thanks to the _sexy in leather_ and _not more beautiful than you_ comments to try something more than exchanging gaming tips and anime recommendations. It was in one of those that Jongin found out the whole ice skating display on tumblr had an explanation: Sehun was planning a Victor Nikiforov cosplay, and this time he thought it would be fun if he dropped some hints here and there, hoping someone would put the pieces together.

( _actually, you’re the only one who knows right now_ , he told Jongin, right after spilling the beans. _let this be our secret_ )

So, in every talk, although he can feel his fingers tingling with the want to tell him _his_ secret, Jongin keeps his big lips pretty shut and doesn’t drop anything that could make Sehun even suspect about what’s going on. But it’s hard, and Jongin never liked to keep secrets, so he ends _kinda_ telling Kyungsoo when they see each other the next week. Also, he needs help.

Professional help.

“Oh my God. Just. What is this shit?” he says, torn between looking at Jongin’s face or at the costume neatly thrown, if this is possible, over his friend’s bed. “Are you sure about this?”

“Well, I can’t go wrong with the casual clothing, right? I thought about doing the skating one but Sehun said his money was cut short these last months so I don’t think he’s going to do something difficult? I mean, it’s just a coat and trousers, isn’t it?” Jongin kinda regrets calling his friend over, since his judging face isn’t being very helpful in the moment, and Jongin really needed helpful.

“It isn’t just a coat and trousers, Jongin. It’s fucking Yuuri Katsuki’s coat and trousers I’m seeing with my own two eyes. Unbelievable.” He says with his best poker face, flopping down on the bed. “I give up. Only God can save your sorry ass now.”

“My sorry ass don’t need no saving, anyway. And weren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know, supportive? Which one of us is the hardcore cosplayer here, uh?” He flops down too, forgetting the fact that the costume is going to get all crinkled and he’ll have to iron it again.

“That exactly my point? _I_ am the hardcore cosplayer, not you. I would look nice on this costume, whereas you are just going to look ridiculous. Not that you don’t look like it already.”

Jongin throws his pillow at his friend’s head, but Kyungsoo, the smartass, was already expecting that.

“Thank God I’m meeting Sehun then, maybe I’m gonna ask him to be my new best friend since the actual one only likes me for my Legend of Zelda collection.”

“I don’t have money to buy me a collection, so yours has to do. And if you leave me for Sehun I’m sure as hell going to tell him about that time when you dated with Kris and he made you wear lace panties but you didn’t want to take it off in your home ‘cause you were scared your mom could find them so you went with them to school and threw it in the boy’s washroom trash can.”

This time he doesn’t escape the pillow—which Jongin promptly holds over his face, by the way.

“You wouldn’t dare! I will curse all of your children and your grandchildren and your grand grandchildren if you do this, Kyungsoo, _I swear to God..._ ”

“Let me breathe, idiot!” Kyungsoo screams, voice muffled by the pillow so that it isn’t much louder than a whisper, his arms flailing wildly until he manages to hit Jongin in the head and the weight above his head disappears. “Do you want to kill me _before_ I even talk to him? Jesus, you’re so whipped.”

“Yes, I know. Didn’t you say that like, nine times already? As if you didn’t draw hearts with K+C inside them on your physics notebook.”

“Shut up, dumbass. I already forgot why you called me here. And before you ask, I was perfectly content rereading Heir to the Empire, so stop wasting my time and do whatever you needed me here to do before you kill me.”

Jongin tries to hold a sigh and fails. He knows he can trust Kyungsoo, knows that his best friend won’t leave his side no matter what happens, but he can’t shake down the feeling that Kyungsoo will find the whole ordeal ridiculous, even if he wouldn’t say so.

“So, I shouldn’t be telling you this but… A friend of mine is going to cosplay as Viktor in the next AnimeCon, and well, I wanted to do a surprise for him since we’ll meet for the first time and all. Then I thought about doing a Yuuri cosplay, so when he sees me he’ll be, you know, surprised.” He preferred not to mull on the possibility of Sehun getting terrified instead, or thinking Jongin is obsessed with him. “But I’m not a hundred percent sure that it is a good idea. I mean, what if he doesn’t like, or thinks I’m trying to copy him? Ain’t I pushing a boundary by doing a matching cosplay with him without him knowing about it?”

“Wow. That’s. Ok, first things first,” Kyungsoo says, closing his eyes and putting on his best thoughtful expression. “You know it makes no sense to say _a friend of mine_ when you already told me it’s Sehun who’s gonna cosplay as Viktor, right? And don’t think you aren’t going to tell me how he went from unreachable internet crush to friend in the minimum details. As for the cosplay, you _do_ know that Viktor and Yuuri aren’t quite _friends_ , right?”

“... Yeah.”

“Okay. Well, if you’re sure you’re going down this way, then don’t get your hopes up too much. You never know how the guy will react. But yes, I think it’s a pretty good idea to win his heart. He definitely won’t see it coming.” He opens his eyes, turning over to ruffle his best friend’s hair. “And if he ditches you, remember we’ll all be there and we can hang out together like the losers we are and grab some popcorn while you cry, okay?”

“Thanks, hyung. I love you,” Jongin says, his lips curved on the small smile his sisters love to dote on, and rolls over to cover all of Kyungsoo’s body with his best performance of a bear hug.

“You really want to kill me.”

“With love!”

“The method won’t matter when I’m dead, dumbass,” he says, his tone emotionless, before breaking a small grin hidden on Jongin’s hair. “But I love you, too.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

By the time he finally hops out of the car, his legs are aching from being cramped in a little space for hours without end. At least this year Kyungsoo managed to convince his mother to spend the day in Seoul while he and Jongin would be on the convention—but that meant Kyungsoo’s younger sisters had to come with them, making a comfortable vehicle turn into a big metallic squeezing machine.

Not that Jongin minds when his mind is racing at a hundred miles per hour. He could easily spend a whole day shut inside the car if it meant he wouldn’t have to deal with what lies ahead of him.

He’s just a teenage boy full of regrets.

His backpack seems to weigh a hundred pounds while he and Kyungsoo try to find the bathroom so they can change into their respective costumes—Kyungsoo’s being Allen Walker, complete with a intrincated Tincanpy which he made by himself. But not even admiring his friend’s work of art costume can take his mind away from what he fears the most: what if Sehun didn’t want anyone cosplaying with him? It’s not like Jongin remembers a time the boy did couple costumes, apart from the time which he went with his friend Luhan—and Sehun told Jongin Luhan wouldn’t be going to this AnimeCon, which meant he expected to be alone, right?

Right. But Jongin didn’t give that much thought, excited as he were to put his plan in practice, almost bursting with expectative. Now, he justs wants to hide himself in one of the bathroom stalls until the event is over.

He changes quickly—after all, even if everything goes wrong with Sehun, he will still have his friends to cheer him up. In the worst scenario, his face will be all red and bloated in the pictures, but hey, at least he will have new pictures. _It’s a win-win situation,_  he says to himself, straightening a few stubborn strands on his wig. _Apart from the fact that it isn’t, really._

“Wow,” he hears Kyungsoo saying, ready to kill some figurative demons. “I would fall for you if I didn’t know you couldn’t lace your own shoes until you were 13.”

“I hope you trip on your ridiculous costume and fall on your face.”

“Ouch!” he retorts, a hand above his chest for illustrational purposes—Kyungsoo always gets livelier when he’s in these events. “But I’m serious, Jongin. You look awesome.”

“Stop, it’s just a jacket and trousers,” he says, but there’s a light blush on his cheeks that he can’t wish away. “It’s you who looks amazing, not me.”

“I do look amazing too, but believe me. The costume doesn’t matter, it’s just. You.” He has a fondness in his eyes when he says that, and Jongin feels like he’s a bride being walked to the aisle, which is a little bit more than what’s really happening. “Doesn’t matter, just go get your man. Surprise him. And please don’t stutter when you see him. Oh, and don’t run. That’s the most important advice.”

“Help me, Allen Walker, whoever the fuck you are, you’re my only hope.”

“It’s my only _ho_ , you uneducated piece of shit!” Kyungsoo shouts, but Jongin doesn't hears, already walking through stands selling all the type of anime-related content there is. In any other situation he would be drooling by the game stands right now, waiting anxiously his turn to play as many demos as he could, but now he has other priorities. Life-changing priorities, if he can say.

In their last conversation, two days ago, they decided to meet in front of the new Mass Effect stand—which Jongin suggested thinking about _that_ iconic Shepard cosplay. He walks leisurely, trying to think about what he’s going to say, what he’s going to do. Some people stop him on his way, asking for pictures, and he’s too shy to say he isn’t the most photogenic of men, so he indulges them - thank God Yuuri is just as easily embarrassed as he is - with some shots before he says he has an important thing to do and runs off. This goes on some three or four times before he can finally see the right stand clear in front of him.

He doesn’t have to search for long before he finds _him_ \- and he shouldn’t be calling him _him,_  but well, his palms are sweating -, dressed as casual as Jongin himself, but a million times more beautiful. He smiles to the people he takes pictures with until they practically swoon at his feet, and Jongin knows he doesn’t have every right to feel jealous, but his heart not so smartly refuses to listen to this piece of information.

And why the fuck is Sehun fidgeting with his nails when he thinks there isn’t anyone looking at him? Surely, he can’t be nervous, right? Not with the fact that he and Jongin are supposed to meet. Of course not. This is just Jongin’s mind making up things so that he doesn’t feel so insecure, right?

(right?)

He hides - yes, that’s right, that’s what he does. After all Kyungsoo said that he shouldn’t run, but didn’t say that he shouldn’t _hide_ in the next stand, outside of Sehun’s peripheral vision. He doesn’t know what to do now that he’s there, now that it’s _finally happening_. Isn’t it just so _lame_ when you wait months (two months, to be exact) and right when things are going to happen, you get this feeling like you’re going to die if you don’t turn back, run home and hide under your covers? Because that is the way Jongin is feeling right now. Like he’s going to fuck everything so the best option for him is to move his damn ass back home and play videogames and forget a beautiful sweet talented funny amazing guy named Oh Sehun liked his dance video.

But at the same time, he doesn’t want to—go home, that’s what he means. He doesn’t want to be the guy who got afraid and ran off, the guy who threw his shot by the nearest window because he thought he couldn’t do it. He doesn’t want to spend the day moping, head under the pillow thinking about the _what if_ s. He’s been watching Sehun on the other side of the screen for too long, sighing with every picture, screaming (internally) with every video. He wants this, this chance, this moment, even if it’s just a second, just a millisecond.

Jongin wants to be the guy who stays.

He is too deep in his thoughts to see the guy approaching him. “Hey! Uh, I don’t know if you realized that we are matching? Like, I’m Viktor and you’re Yuuri, so…” It’s Sehun. It’s Sehun and he is so close, _so so so close_ , that Jongin can see the bit of brown poking under his blue-green lenses; so so so close that he forgets to breathe properly. From this distance he can see the light scar resting over Sehun’s cheekbone and he doesn’t touch it only by sheer force of will. “Uh… Do I know you from somewhere? I’m pretty bad with faces and names,” he finishes, a small, embarrassed smile gracing his full lips, and Jongin wishes he had photographic memory because he wants to remember that smile until the end of his days.

“I’m…” Jongin begins, scratches his head, breathes _deeply_ , starts again. “I’m Jongin! You know, from Tumblr. The boy who dances?” Great, Jongin. As if Sehun doesn’t know a lot of boys who dance from Tumblr.

“Oh. Oh! Jongin, it’s you!” Forget about the first smile, is this one that Jongin wants to remember, the happy one, the one showing the whites of his teeth, the one where he half closes his eyes and little wrinkles appear by the sides of them. It’s _the smile_ , and Jongin feels ready to faint after having seen it. “I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you! I mean, I didn’t know you would be cosplaying and you didn’t sent me lots of pictures, but this isn’t a valid excuse, is it? I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine! I’m using a wig and specs and I totally don’t look like myself right now. But yeah, it’s me. Jongin.”

This isn't going to end nicely.

“Yes, I know that. Jongin,” Sehun’s eyes following the lines of his body as he says that—not in a _hey babe i’m checking you out_ kind of way and more like a _you’ve only sent me pictures of your face until know and i want to see your body when it’s not dancing_ kind of way, which is much more comfortable, at least for the moment. “Nice cosplay, by the way. Did you have it planned before or…”

“Well, I, uh, I had the idea when you said you were dressing as Viktor so I thought I could, you know, match? I thought about telling you but I wanted to do a surprise. Uhm… Did you like it?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course I did. Like. Uh,” Jongin almost hides in the nearest corner - figuratively - until he realizes that Sehun is stammering, not him. Sehun. Stammering. Next thing he’ll discover the sky turned pink. “I mean, we’re technically cosplaying as a married couple but I’m finding this very nice. More than nice, if you really want to know.”

“Really? I thought you would be a little freaked out” he laughs, cheeks coloring light pink. “I mean, you say you're cosplaying as Viktor and suddenly a wild guy appears dressing as Yuuri without asking if you would like it.”

“It’s not like I own the rights to every Yuuri!!! On Ice cosplay. And I loved the surprise, so stop worrying,” Sehun says, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Well… Do you want to, I don’t know, eat something?”

“Sounds nice! But the cosplay contest is about to begin, isn’t it? Aren’t you participating this time?”

“I don’t think _this_ ,” Sehun says, doing a spin that gives Jongin a fast but unforgettable view of his butt, “is going to win any contest, and either way, it’s kinda the same thing every year. A dozen vocaloids, a bunch of League of Legends characters and that one guy in a full medieval armor. Besides, seeing as, fictionally, we are a couple, don’t you think we should be doing couple things? Fictionally. Or maybe not so fictionally! Whatever you want.”

Whatever he wants? The only thing Jongin wants right now is to take Sehun in his arms bridal style and run with him to a deserted beach on the Caribbean, but he can settle with eating ice-cream with him and walking through the event with their shoulders touching,  admiring the way Sehun’s blond hair - he didn’t even need a wig for this cosplay - reflects light like an angel’s halo.

“Yes, of course! I love eating! I mean. Eating sounds fine. Good,” Jongin says, his tongue suddenly too heavy to function. He’s scratching his hair, but he can’t even feel embarrassed, not when Sehun’s giggle could light a room a hundred times better than Vivaldi’s Spring. “I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut from now on but first: ice cream?”

“Ice cream sounds fine. Good,” Sehun chuckles, hand covering his mouth while he lead the way through the mazes of different stands. Jongin almost forgot how overwhelming was to be in a place like that, at least for him, who wasn’t used to hear anything louder than the bark of his three dogs when they teamed up against him to play.

He didn’t like to say his city was small because that left everyone (aka Baekhyun, Jongdae and Chanyeol) thinking he and Kyungsoo were farm boys whose wardrobe consisted only of flannel shirts and flare jeans. Especially as he and Sehun shared bits and pieces of their history, Sehun telling him about his life and Seoul and how the buildings are always so big, so imposing, how he feels like a tiny and insignificant ant compared to them—Jongin thinks Sehun is anything but. In exchange, he tells him about living in a city where everyone knows each other, where there is no subway - Sehun gasps at that - and there is only one movie theater with two rooms that always plays the same movies again and again.

He thinks his life is overall dull and boring but Sehun’s eyes light up with every story, like Jongin’s life is a magic box and he’s finally learning how to open it—Sehun is a big boy in a even bigger city, and Jongin never thought about how alone that can make you feel sometimes.

They’re just walking away from McDonald’s, ice creams freezing their brains and hands brushing against one another with every little movement - and Jongin sure moves a lot - when it happens. Three girls, all looking about the same age as them, enter their way and the older one shyly asks for a picture. It’s supposed to be quick work, a picture with them and a picture of the two together, Sehun putting an imaginary ring on Jongin’s finger like he’s proposing. The goodbyes are on the tip of their tongues when the younger girl, blushing like a tomato, raises her voice.

“Uhm, could you please… You know? You look like a real couple and I was thinking if you couldn’t… Kiss? Just a little peck. For the camera.”

Fuck it, Jongin just want the ground to swallow him—again.

Sehun, on the other hand, doesn’t seem very affected. Sure, his smile is a bit disconcerted and his face is starting to fluster, but he surely doesn’t look like someone who wants to run away from those girls as if they were the devil incarnate. Maybe, Jongin thinks, is because Sehun is already used to it. He remembers all the playful poses and open smiles Sehun was giving to the people who asked before they found each other, so yeah, must be a cosplay thing, right? There’s always the obnoxious people that seem to forget you’re a human being under the costume, not an anime character, and Sehun has had his fair share of them already.

“Is this okay for you?” Sehun whispers, deadly serious. “We don’t have to do this because they asked, don’t feel pressured, okay?”

“Okay. I mean, it’s okay. For us to kiss,” It’s just a peck, his heart can handle this. It can, right? “I swear I’m not feeling pressured or anything.”

“Really? I know this can be quite surprising. And uncomfortable.”

“Really. And it’s you, so. Not even slightly uncomfortable. Look, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay then.”

Oh no. Isn’t there a click device or something? Jongin wants to go back. Sehun’s face is getting closer and closer and he was wrong, his heart can’t take it. He is an infatuated teenager and his legs are made of jell-o and why can the ground swallow him? He wants to ground to swallow him but boy, he also does want Sehun’s lips pressed to his own.

It is, like the girl asked, just a little peck. It lasts for exact three seconds, until they hear the _click_ of the camera going off. Sehun turns to her and says his goodbyes, clearing his throat before he turns his attention back to Jongin.

Who is still in the same position, like the world stopped around him.

(it kinda did)

“Earth to Jongin! Are you there?” Sehun asks, but no Jongin isn’t there. He is in heaven, trying to find out how many children he saved in his past life to be so blessed. He is ready for ascension, really. There isn’t anything better than that waiting for him in this earth, he’s sure of this.

“Alive and breathing. Sort of,” is his answer. Sehun smiles and Jongin smiles back, real smiles, looking into his eyes with a playful glint. Sehun’s smile opens more, if that’s even possible.

“You know, that was a real lame first kiss, don’t you think?” Sehun says, giving his ice cream an experimental lick that shows Jongin the light pink of his tongue. How can he find even Sehun’s _tongue_ beautiful? Jesus.

“Yes? I guess.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could forget that happened and, like, try again?”

“Of course, I mean—wait, what? Do you want to kiss me? Again?”

Ground, could you activate the damn swallow function already?

“Yes, Jongin. Again, and maybe, if you want to, for the rest of the day. Oh, until next week too would be nice. Or even next month!” Sehun is smiling, but Jongin can see he’s hiding his hand behind his back, probably fidgeting with them again. “These days we spent talking, and then seeing you here, doing a cosplay in like, two months, just to surprise me? I think I really like you, Jongin. Actually, I’m pretty sure of it.”

Is this some kind of prank? A dream. Jongin is sure it is. Two hours ago he didn’t want to leave the car and now this.

 _This_ being the moment his heart bursts and he enters medical history as the first guy who literally died for excess of love.

And it’s all Oh Sehun’s fault.

“Are you. I mean. Is this real? Like. You. Like me? As in like like? As in, I don’t know, _boyfriends_?”

“That is the objective, yes, but there’s no need to rush things if you don’t want it.”

“You want to be my _boyfriend_.”

“I would very well like to,” Sehun says, and he’s smiling again, observing how Jongin’s expression manages to get more and more surprised. Jongin thinks he’s the only one close to bursting here, but he’s wrong.

“Uh, Jongin…” he says again, voice catching on the last word because he can’t hold his laugh. “Your ice cream is going to melt if you don’t eat it.”

(fuck the ice cream)

He puts one of his hands - the one not holding the ice cream, thank you - on the back of Sehun’s neck, using it as leverage to bring their faces together again, this time for much longer than three seconds. His lips taste like the chocolate from his ice cream, and suddenly Jongin loves chocolate. Best thing in the world, besides, of course, Oh Sehun.

They don’t use tongue - maybe Sehun does, but it’s nothing more than tracing Jongin’s lips so that he can remembers them -, instead letting their lips mold against one another, lingering and sighing. Sehun’s hand on Jongin’s hip, their noses touching and a warm feeling on both their chests. Jongin doesn’t want to let go.

“Oh,” Sehun says when they separate, his tone a little breathless. Jongin thinks about hearing that same little _oh_ for the rest of his life and he never felt happiness like this. “You got ice-cream on my coat.”

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. Let me clean this, it’s just chocolate, it won’t stain. It won’t, right? Shit.”

“I don’t care, Jongin. It’s just a coat with _RU_ written on it, I couldn’t care less.”

“Really? Good then, because it’s white.”

“Really. Now, I do believe those guys standing there trying to act like they weren’t watching us are your friends right? The one with cat ears surely is Baekhyun,” Sehun doesn’t even finish saying this and Jongin is turning his head everywhere, trying to find them and _there_ —it’s really them. Chanyeol, Jongdae, Baekhyun, Kyungsoo. The whole gang with VIP seats to see him kiss a boy and stain his coat with chocolate ice cream. “Want to give them a show?”

“Do you really mean it? Oh God, you do. Count me in.”

He pretends he doesn’t hear Jongdae shouting and Chanyeol clapping like a madman, because there is tongue this time, and someone will have to get a tow truck to get him away from Sehun this time, because he’s not leaving so soon.

(“uh, jongin, you did it again.”

“i will buy you a new coat, i swear. and i’m so sorry.”)

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re studying more in these three months than I’ve ever seen you do in your 17 years of existence,” his sister says, disturbing the peace and quiet he’s trying to build to focus on his studies and not think about texting Sehun. Don’t text Sehun, Jongin. You need to study. “Care to tell me why my little brother changed so much? Or _for whom_?”

“I need to enter Seoul National University.”

“Wow, funny. Just last week you were pretty content with the closest university you could find and now you want the top university in the whole country?”

“Fine,” he says, taking his eyes off the book and looking at her smiling face. “We’re officially dating now. Does that sate your wish for romance?”

“It does,” she says, dropping herself on his bed and making papers fly everywhere. “Poor Jongin. So young, but _so whipped_.”

He doesn’t even try denying it.  


End file.
